


Coming Home

by LibbyWeasley



Series: Not Quite Ruined [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bobbi is a spy, Bobbi's POV, F/M, HuntingBird, War of 1812, missing moment, regency au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22781680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/pseuds/LibbyWeasley
Summary: A missing moment from Not Quite Ruined. Bobbi and Hunter finally reunite after three years of being undercover and Bobbi takes the time to think about her future.
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse
Series: Not Quite Ruined [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1311134
Comments: 17
Kudos: 16





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazyfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/gifts).



> This was written for Earth vs. Space's "Something Extra." This is a missing moment from Not Quite Ruined from chapter 5. Since Not Quite Ruined is from FS's POV, I wanted to share this bit from Bobbi's. 
> 
> This is for @bobbimorseisbisexual since there is never enough Huntingbird :)
> 
> A big, big thank you to @apathbacktoyou for the amazing manip (and Bobbi looked so adorable I had to add another scene to this fic), and also to @agentofship for the beta and @blancasplayground for listening to me talk about all the fics. This was obviously a group effort here <3

As consciousness returned, Bobbi resisted the temptation to open her eyes. The last thing she remembered was being ambushed as she’d attempted to make her way to the rendezvous point to meet Coulson’s men. She had hoped that one of them might be Hunter. 

Hunter.

Her heart ached a little bit at the thought of him — so much of their relationship hadn’t gone as she’d thought it would. But they might have been able to try again. They _were_ still married. She just had to survive first. 

Without her sight she relied on her other senses to guide her. If she’d been captured she needed as much information as possible to make her escape. There was a low rumbling of voices, but it was too distant to make out any words. It was definitely English though. Not French. That was something at least. 

There was a familiar smell surrounding her that broke through the metallic odor of blood. Something she couldn't quite place, but reminded her of home. She was also aware of pain. The ache in her head was manageable, but the fire in her leg was much more concerning. 

Footsteps came closer and gentle hands touched her leg. Bobbi’s eyes flew open and her hand caught the wrist of the person touching her. A woman in a ball gown? Perhaps this was all a dream. 

“Bobbi?” It was Hunter’s voice. Almost certainly a dream then. But then his voice became more firm and she knew it really was him. “Bobbi, you have to let Miss Simmons go.”

Her gaze locked on Hunter. Three years had treated him well. His presence was just as solid as she remembered and the stubble on his face made him look positively sinful, though he seemed a little more worn than when she’d last seen him. Even the memory of their last night together sent a little bolt of desire through her. A bolt that was quickly overpowered by the ache in her leg. 

“Miss Morse? Excuse me, Agent Morse —“ The woman who was dressed more appropriately for a soirée was talking, but Bobbi couldn’t focus. 

“Bobbi is fine. This isn’t a drawing room.” Her voice was scratchy. Her mouth dry. Hunter was beside her with something that was most definitely not tea. 

“For the pain,” he said with a grin, and she rolled her eyes at him. It had always been that way with him. They were able to pick up right where they had left off — usually mid argument. 

“Hunter,” the woman — Miss Simmons — said, turning to him. “I need to examine Agent — I mean, Bobbi. Could you let Fitz know we’re almost finished?”

“Sure. I think I hear him pacing out there.” He reached for Bobbi’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. It had been so long since she’d had the kind of contact that was real and not just part of a mission, that she didn’t want to let go. But she did. This was still a mission and she didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle yet. 

She turned to gaze towards the other woman, trying to figure out her role here. Why had Hunter brought a debutante to a rendezvous? Did she mean something to him? A different sort of pain filled her but she pushed it aside. There would be time later to figure out what her life would look like after this war was over. And she was certain she had information that would shorten the course of this interminable conflict.

Schooling her features into a look of cool detachment — she was Dracaena borealis, she wouldn’t be upset if her husband had moved on after she’d pushed him away — Bobbi examined the other woman. Her movements were sure, yet careful, as she moved her hands over Bobbi’s injury. 

Not a debutante then. 

“It looks like the wound is clean. It should heal well —“

“Where am I?” Bobbi asked, cutting off the nervous rambling. 

“Oh.” The other woman’s hands fluttered. “We’re on board _The Shield_ , heading back to Brighton.”

Miss Simmons just stared back at her a moment before blushing and turning away. 

Interesting. 

“And who are you?”

“I’m Jemma Simmons...of Sheffield.”

Jemma Simmons. The name was vaguely familiar, prickling something in her memory, but she couldn’t place it. 

“You’re a doctor?”

It seemed unlikely given her age and attire...and that she was a woman. But if anyone knew how to find talent in unexpected places it was Coulson. It was one of the reasons she had decided to work for him in the first place. 

“Not a doctor, no. But I know a bit about anatomy and biology.” She wrapped the wound in makeshift bandages. “So when Fitz asked for my help, of course I couldn’t say no.”

Ah, Fitz. If the pretty blush that was spreading of Miss Simmons’ cheeks was any indication, she was quite enamored. 

Exhaustion settled through her as Miss Simmons — Jemma — helped her settle back on the bunk. Her eyes drifted around the small cabin and she realized it must be Hunter’s. 

Jemma wiped the back of her hand, a hand that was stained with Bobbi’s blood, across her forehead and looked around wearily. “I think that’s all I can do for you now. Once we return to England, someone else...someone with actual medical training should look at it, of course.”

She studied the other woman, now noticing how brittle she looked beneath her calm. “Hunter—”

Her voice broke off on a yawn before she could say anything more, but Jemma just nodded and silently cleaned up as best as she could before leaving Bobbi to rest.

* * *

The next time she woke, there was none of the panic, only a sense of relief. The first rays of sunlight were starting to shine through into the small room. She tried to stretch her tired muscles, giving up with a groan when she shifted her leg. It was stiff and sore...and it would probably take entirely too long to heal. Time she didn’t have if she was going to deliver the packet of information she had tucked into her cloak to Coulson. 

Struggling to sit up, she froze at the sudden movement beside her. “Take it easy, love.”

A gentle hand on her shoulder pushed her back on the bed -- and she was so startled she let him. 

“Hunter.” She was a little ashamed by how breathless her voice sounded, but she _was_ injured. Clearing her throat, she continued, “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your life.”

The smile on his face eased any uncertainty she had about their relationship. He was here. 

“I have to get to Coulson. I have information.”

This time when she tried to sit up, his hand didn’t push her back onto the pillow, but instead helped her up. 

“You aren’t going anywhere, Bob.”

“But, the mission —“

“Have Fitz do it. I’m not going to lose you because you’re too stubborn to let yourself heal properly.”

Bobbi tilted her head, trying to read his expression. But, as always, he was the only person she couldn’t fully understand. The only person with the power to hurt her. 

She was just thinking, but he must have interpreted her silence as something else.

“Bobbi...I understand why you left —“

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.” The words came tumbling out. 

“Someone had to keep Fitz from getting himself killed. And...and you were here. At least if I was working for Coulson, I’d hear if something happened to you.”

Ah.

“You’re my wife, Bobbi!”

The words were more impassioned than she had expected, and the way they sounded coming from him chipped away at her calm. It was far easier to keep herself closed off. To not risk feeling. Not risk losing.

“I’m well aware of that --”

She knew she sounded snappish, but she was tired and stretched beyond her limit. Three years undercover had forced her to constantly be on guard and to keep her true thoughts and feelings to herself.

“I can’t help it if I’m in love with you, Bob. I tried not to be--”

“I never told you not to,” she said quickly.

Her heart pounding, more fear surging through her now then when she’d been in the field, she stared at him. Honesty hadn’t always been the best for them.

His arms came around her and she pressed her lips to his.

Warmth surrounded her. It melted the chill in her bones and sent heat skittering down her spine. Hunter’s tongue pressed against her lips and she opened herself to him. It had been so long. Too long. The need to let go and surrender was almost overpowering. She didn’t want to have to have all the answers. To be strong by herself. She wanted to trust a part of herself to someone else. To him.

He was leaning awkwardly over the bed beside her, so she tugged him down over her, wanting him closer. She gasped. Desire had made her forget her injury, but it all came rushing back as she pressed against him.

“Careful,” he murmured, smoothing her hair back from her face and settling beside her. “Don’t hurt yourself, love.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple and held her close. The sound of his voice crashed over her and peace settled through her. She couldn’t help loving him. To distraction, sometimes, but it was still love.

“Lance…” Her voice was low and his arms tightened around her almost imperceptibly. “What do we do now?”

“Now...now I take you home, my lady.”

Home. It had been three years since she’d had a home. A place that was hers. A place where she didn’t have to pretend.

Yes. Home was a good place to start.

* * *

_Three Months Later_

“I’ve just had a letter from Fitz.”

Hunter walked into the room, his black Hessians clicking against the floor as he moved closer.

“I know.” From her perch on the edge of the settee, Bobbi waved the letter, the pages fanning open. She grimaced a little as she shifted her weight. Recovery was even more difficult than being a spy.

“How do you do that?” He tried to sound annoyed, but she knew he was just teasing.

“I’m a spy, Hunter.” She rolled her eyes and then smiled as he settled himself on the floor by her slippered feet.

“Jemma’s increasing…” He gave her a sly smile. “Never thought Fitz would be the one to have a hurried wedding.”

“Was there really any doubt? Neither one of them even tried to hide their feelings.”

Hopefully Hunter wouldn’t notice her distraction, because talking about Jemma’s condition had reminded her of her own. Not that the constant queasiness in her stomach made it possible to forget.

Things had been going so well between them -- in the bubble of their townhome -- that she wasn’t sure she was ready to venture back into society. But this was a wedding they couldn’t beg off. And she had never gotten the chance to properly thank Jemma anyway.

Her wedding ring glittered in the sunlight as Hunter took her hand. He had put it back on her finger the night he’d rescued her and it hadn’t come off since.

“Are you ready? We don’t have to go. I’m sure Fitz will understand.”

“I’m ready.”

He gazed up at her with such a look of tenderness that she wanted to stay in this moment as long as she could. He seemed so happy for Fitz and Jemma and the family they were creating. She’d never asked the question, and the words stuck in her throat now, but she hoped he’d be just as happy about the new life growing inside her. The new life that they had made in love.

Banishing her fears, she opened her mouth to tell him --

“I love you, Bob.”

He bent his head to kiss her hand, and goosebumps raced up her arm as his lips moved over her wrist.

Her news could wait a little longer.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled his lips to hers.

Home wasn’t just a place. It was love, acceptance...and Hunter.

And it was wonderful being home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr @LibbyWeasley


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